


Dear Dempsey (3)

by DankTempsey



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: ...or is it, But i guess its for the best, God i said i wouldnt write a third one, Im gonna probably rewrite it, M/M, The ending is so trope-y i cant handle it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DankTempsey/pseuds/DankTempsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn't have expected to express his fondness and trust in a hot spring. Then again, he didn't really expect to express it at all. Unfortunate...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Dempsey (3)

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Dempsey 3?  
> This title is getting ridiculous. (No, it's like one of the best ones I've come up with ever)  
> Please,,, feel free to scream at me by the end of this, because I'm not sure I'll write another DD, but maybe just another story correlating to this? Who knows!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :B  
> Please don't be afraid to leave a comment!! It encourages me and I like feedback!

Dear Dempsey 3

 

 

 

There was only one real answer to be extended the offer of joining Richtofen in a discovered hot spring. Dempsey performed it perfectly; his expression was filled to the brim with relief and gaiety. He stood up from his usual resting area and nodded, almost slipping on a pool of blood and decay, before exclaiming a joyous "hell yes!"

 

Edward claimed he'd meet him there―after giving instruction, he inveigled Dempsey and explained he didn't want to look suspicious that they were constantly together in front of the others, even on their freetime.

 

And so, Dempsey had gathered up his things; a weapon in case their loisir was ruined, and a towel for obvious reasons; he soon headed off.

 

Thankfully, it hadn't been too far of a walk. In all honesty, Dempsey would've ditched this rendezvous if it was a long way there and probably wouldn't have told Richtofen. He couldn't tell, himself, if he was playing hard to get or if he was a patent asshole. Perhaps both, but more the second than the other.

 

The hot springs were immensely recognizable from a fair distance. Edward wasn't lying when he claimed, "you'll see it, _oh, you'll see it_." Then again, Richtofen hadn't been lying for quite a while now. Through the longest hours of their time shared on the remote Pacific island, the trust grew and the lies had stopped. 

 

Edward had been learning, in where the marine admired the hell out of it. From the little fibs, to the extravagant falsification, Dempsey was sincerely enjoying the candor, the honesty. And, perhaps he should've thanked him for that.

 

By the time Edward arrived, Dempsey had already been stripped down to his boxers, quelling his worries as he rested in the hot waters.

 

"How is it, Dempsey?"

"Nice and hot―just like me."

 

Richtofen rolled his eyes, settling along the ground, then began to remove his tight garb one piece at a time.

 

"I'm glad I found this, I hope it also diminishes the foul stench that lingers on me―curse the sewer pipes for smelling like that."

"What'd'ya expect, doc? It's a sewer pipe. It's not like they're growing flowers and selling candies in there."

 

Richtofen nodded.

 

He slipped alongside Dempsey, resting his head onto his shoulder as well, "Either way, I'm glad you're here too. You inherited a smell worse than me, you swamp monster."

 

Edward chuckled a great amount as Tank gasped, "Hey! I wear a jacket, shirt, and a ribbed tanktop! You try sporting that everyday."

"As _nice_ as that sounds, I'd rather not. Especially if it's your clothing."

 

Tank made a face towards the other, sticking his tongue out and snarling.

 

The naturalistic environment was rather alleviating. Listening to all kinds of insects chirp, watching fireflies glisten with their neon tails, and the crisp and delicate whistle of the wind from touching the exotic thickets was helping soothe their minds and refresh them. Especially Tank―he lounged himself to where his bust was the only visible part of his body and his arms too.

 

It seemed like this was a dream; five minutes of relaxation was usually a luxury to them. He was glad he was spending it like this, and for such a long time as well.

 

"Dempsey, may I ask you a question?" Spoke Edward, disrupting the immediate silence. 

 

He's been posing Tank for a while now. For the most part, it was all mixed emotions and some sudden dislike of the plan for the future. Richtofen had even confessed to not knowing how and where to go on from here; surely, they had to pick off the continued existence of another, but there was something else. Edward had felt as if their recipe for reconstruction needed some other ingredients and confirmation―that's where they were headed to next, told Edward. But... how would they get there is the real question. 

 

He was vagabond in his head which was fair, since he didn't really have the intense desire to confess a few capricious words of wisdom to him. All he truly wanted was to relax in the hot, healing bath.

 

"Oh, sure doc. Fire away."

 

It took a while for Richtofen to upright-avow his inquiry. Somehow despondent, the German cowers at his own thoughts and pulls abroad from the marine. A deep inhale was subsequent, then he spoke on.

 

"You really do trust me, right?"

 

This was puzzling. He perceived it as a punchline, rather a brain-teaser, that would never be truly solved. He didn't know if he completely trusted Richtofen; at least he had knowledge that he had a sliver somewhere deep inside him that did. Or was it hope? He defined it as such, and possessing that feeling was arduous and could have coerced him to grieve. Though, it kind of let Tank have expectations and reasons to keep piggybacking this journey.

 

Soon ensuing, he was followed by ambitious desire to tell the truth, and so he did. Kind of.

 

"I mean, I am bathing with you, aren't I?"

He passed a small chuckle, loosening the tension in the air.

 

Though, by the time Tank had finished laughing, Edward was studying the marine intensely. Dismay wrote all over his face as he frowned and lowered his eyebrows.

 

"Dempsey, I need your honesty. Do you trust me or not?"

 

His palette of knowing Edward didn't tend to appeal to that dynamic roughness. Richtofen never presented such a choleric attitude before, not towards Dempsey at least. The German granted question or some sort of jesting entertainment; Tank was gall for banter, he wasn't truly _that_ annoying.

 

Tank obtrusively threw his head back and softly broke a cough through his teeth, "Well, Richtofen, I believe you're doing the right thing and I like the ballsy kind of attitude you've got goin' on. I just can't... fully trust someone that I was enemies with before. It just ain't natural."

 

He reached out to Richtofen, holding his hand, a rather sentimental place for Edward to be touched.

 

"But," Tank closed in now, encircling an arm around the doctor's waist pressing him back into the earthy wall of the steamy pond, "I gotta say, doc. It's gettin' there and I don't have a problem with that. I'm glad I can trust you at least a little."

 

Dempsey has always been so inclined to offer more than a second chance, he's always been so inclined to present reliance. Dependency wasn't his sort of _"reliance"_ though; if anything, Dempsey was very independent and probably could have been counted as one of the compeers in which delved deeply into their work. That spanned from collecting copious tools to aid their situation, to killing off the hoard efficiently, and even solving problems with the smallest amount of clues. Tank was intellectual, and that's just something else that Richtofen acclaimed consciously about him.

 

Edward had been staring too long. His observation subconsciously switched into ogling, he'd been eyeing at Tank's pudgy bust. His provisional lapse of concentration led to Richtofen being nudged back into consciousness; Tank pressed his knee against Edward's side. 

 

Richtofen's breath worked desperately. He was being suffocated in the mist and unnecessary closeness of his friend.

 

"I'm glad I can trust you as well, Dempsey. I've always trusted you."

 

This was a confession; a counterfeit one in all honesty. Dempsey's gun had met the doctor before the marine himself. Sometimes it made him queasy to think back to those times. Exposure to element 115 bludgeoned them all to fail to recall simple or important events. Richtofen doesn't understand why he remembers that one so clearly. So clearly, that he has dreamt of the occasion several times.

 

"You trust me, Eddie?"

"More than I could anybody."

 

Another lie; no, the truth? Edward's heart was talking, then his logic was. He didn't even apprehend which one to be listened to. It didn't matter now. It was said and done. That, and Dempsey canted forward. 

 

"Is that so?"

"Very much so, Tank."

 

How did he call his name so clearly? He's so used to revealing that man's name like the next weapon of mass destruction. His voice would quaver. He'd stall it for as long as he could―this was only because he'd use his first name in disputes or when he was hurt. 

 

He drew his hand back to himself, immediately making contact with the American's chest. 

 

Dempsey proceeded on, now holding his lips aloft Edward's.

 

"You remember that time I almost kissed you, but instead you hit your head and threw u―"

"You frankly elect the worst times to bring up the worst things, Dempsey."

 

Tank snickered, Edward's mien lost its particular bloom and replaced with red.

 

"I was just saying so because, if I wanted to kiss you again, and you toss your cookies on me, then I'm out of here."

"No promises, Dempsey."

 

He maneuvered his hand beneath the water, pulling Richtofen's legs around his waist, then placing his hand beyond the German's head, "I guess I'll take my chances, baby."

 

There was no impact yet, but Richtofen was puckering like a sucker. His eyes were shut so tensely, that the edges were quivering. And his eyebrows were so furrowed they started to as well. 

 

Dempsey drank in the sweet sight of him, before closing in again. His lips were soon pouted too, as he pushed the other up against the soft, spongy wall.

 

"What's taking you so long, Dempsey? Why won't you do it already?"

 

Had the marine known why, he would've said it. He was unaware of his own desires to let the doctor wait, and wait, and wait...

 

"Why do you want me to kiss you, Richtofen?"

 

He's discerning it, it's hazy and fuzzy, but he's soon understanding why.

 

"Because, Dempsey. I... I don't know, just thinking about such a thing coerces me to feel... happy."

 

He sees it. In the distance of the unknowing and eagerness, he starts to understand. 

 

"Does it, Ed? Then why don't you do it yourself?"

 

He wants Richtofen to clout him; he wants him to take what he wants.

 

The German's eyes had opened. He was promptly acquainted with two blue orbs, and afterwards pushed Tank away. 

 

"I didn't know I was granted such an honor, American. Had I known I would have done it before," said the doctor, his words slow and less supercilious. Dempsey nods, raising his hands up toward the other's face and caressing his cheeks.

 

"Of course you would've, Edward."

"Believe me, Dempsey."

 

Richtofen feels Dempsey's thumb carefully slip over his lips. It had become a signature move of persuasion. He had used it so often that Edward considered he would not feel the butterflies in the same way when Tank used it first. But he was wrong, oh, so wrong. 

 

"Then do it now, Edward. I've been waiting."

 

His heart was doing the actions, doing the talking, possessing his body like an amorous entity. He felt lively, and his body proved so; the hairs on the nape of his neck positioned upright, his heartbeat was deep and playing a rhythmic drum in his ears, and his hands desperately retreated to Tank's hips.

 

His happiness was enkindled. He kissed the American.

 

Every move was so incentivized. He was provided with the fervent touching (Tank was happy to play with Edward's hair, and even run his hands through it) and he was granted his lips with lingible acts.

 

The mania of all of this was exciting Richtofen down to the core, the American's stance had flip-flopped when Edward pivoted, and jolted Tank to the grimy partition (wall). 

 

And it was so humiliating to pull away and behold the pleasant bowl-over Tank gave. His eyebrows rose and his jaw dropped in awe. 

 

Edward was swimming in his own pool of embarrassment. Dempsey knows, now, of what Richtofen has been holding back for quite some while. And some part of Tank wishes that he would've given Richtofen the go ahead and let him know that it was okay to buss; the other part was glad they waited, because it was just _so_ zealous.

 

Edward hops up and out of the plash, hurrying over to his clothes and gathering them frantically. 

 

"Dempsey, I forgot I have to something to do. I'm sorry to cut this short," his breathing was rushed, he could barely speak without tripping over his own words, "but I must go. I am sorry." He quickly dressed and left.

 

Dempsey wasn't angry that Richtofen split. There was clear reason as to _why_ Richtofen split.

 

It was decidedly clear when he walked away. His shallow behavior, the way he avoided any and all eye contact, and his recent frenetic conduct.

 

Tank smiled; not like he had been satisfied or anything, but more or less with the far-fetched and utterly incredible way.

 

Edward was in love with Tank.

 

 

_×_


End file.
